


Of Sand, And Steel, And Starlight

by sciencefictioness



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: When would it be over?  When would there be nothing new to learn about himself?  His past, and now his body, betraying him in ways he’d never expected.Keith couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt at home in his own skin.  As though it belonged to him, instead of feeling like it was someone else’s.Back on earth, probably, when he had nothing to call his own but the desert, and a knife, and the night sky.





	Of Sand, And Steel, And Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Voltron Bang. There is some _amazing_ art by thecreamcat [ here](http://thecreamcat.tumblr.com/post/163902287732/shiro-snatched-lances-messy-hand-by-the-wrist) and [ here.](http://thecreamcat.tumblr.com/post/163902349712/he-thought-of-shiro-and-lance-on-their-knees)
> 
> This is uhhhhhh... really self indulgent, I wish I was sorry but I'm not. I could tell you all the pseudo science I thought about to go with the story, but I think it stands on its own without a lot of intricate explanation of any of that in the narrative, you guys can get the gist I'm sure.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It was insidiously gradual, and then it wasn’t anymore.  It inched along his back, climbed down his arms, spread over his neck.  Slow like the incoming tide, progression invisible until everything was underwater all at once.  

 

Like the desert creeping in bit by bit, until his entire world was covered in sand.

 

The color itself would have been pretty, if Keith didn’t associate it with suffering and cruelty and death.  He already hated it when he looked in the mirror, eerie violet eyes reflecting back at him, reminding him that he wasn’t like the others.  That he never had been, and never would be.

 

That he was more.  That he was less.  That he was different.

 

Maybe it was all the quintessence they’d been repeatedly hit with, or the fact that they were all collectively spending more time around the members of the Blade of Marmora.  Keith wasn’t sure.  Either could be to blame, according to the Galra he spoke to when he could no longer ignore the changes in himself.  

 

_ There’s no way to be certain how much you will change, or in what ways your Galran heritage will manifest. _

 

His skin slowly turning purple was demoralizing enough on its own, but the differences didn’t stop there. The texture of his hair changed, and soon it was purple too.  Keith’s ears shifted on his head, developing a point.  Grew large, and furred, and Keith hated himself a little more every day.  Instead of fingernails, Keith had claws, and he couldn’t decide if filing them down was clinging to his humanity or sacrificing a weapon.

 

Not that it mattered, because they wouldn’t stay filed anyway, growing back to brutal points in the span of a few hours.  

 

Then he woke up one morning with sharp, vicious canines and one eye absent its pupil and iris, just unbroken gold bright sclera, and Keith wanted to tear himself apart.

 

Shiro said all the right things, from the first splashes of color that appeared on Keith’s shoulder blades to the last patch of pale skin in the palm of his hand that he clung to like a lifeline until it faded away entirely.

 

_ You’re beautiful, you’re perfect, you’re breathtaking. _

 

_ You’re still you, Keith, nothing’s changed. _

 

And then, when it wasn’t enough,  _ Am I less human because my arm is Galra? _

 

_ Then neither are you. _

 

All of it whispered soft into Keith’s ear in the quiet of their room, the castle hushed around them, his voice barely there.

 

And Lance, well.  Lance was shit with words sometimes, but actions he could handle.  So he pressed his lips to each new bit of Galra skin, chasing the purple with his mouth every night, kisses sweet and reverent.  Found out it bruised too easy beneath his teeth just like Keith’s skin always had, turning violet-black under his attentions.  He left marks up and down Keith’s throat like he had something to prove.  Lance threaded his fingers through Keith’s long, thick hair, burying his face in the strands,  _ I love the way you smell. _

 

Lance liked to shove his hands deep into Keith’s indigo locks.  Liked to scratch his nails gentle along Keith’s scalp, just behind his ears.  

 

When Keith started purring the first time, he didn’t even notice until Lance and Shiro reacted to the sound.  Lance’s fingers went still in his hair, and Shiro was staring wide eyed from the outside of the bed.  The sound cut off abruptly as soon as Keith realized what he was doing, panic and embarrassment swelling in him so fast he felt nauseous.

 

He could still blush even with purple skin, cheeks going darker as they flushed with blood.  Keith tried to flee, tried to roll over Shiro and run from the room, but Shiro and Lance were ready for it.  After all the time they’d spent dealing with his insecurities about his heritage, even if this was something new, they already knew that Keith would hate it.  Shiro manhandled him back onto the bed, and Lance clung to him like an octopus, and they sandwiched him between them until he stopped struggling.  Keith was going nowhere, because they’d tried giving him space before to deal with things on his own, and it didn’t work.

 

He stayed away too long, and was worse when he eventually returned, taking steps backwards with every moment apart from them.  

 

_ It’s cute,  _ Lance said, nosing into his throat and petting at his ears and trying to coax the noise from him again.

 

_ I like it. _

 

Shiro tried to assuage his awkwardness by any means necessary, but Keith still tried to stop himself from doing it.  It was hard to tamp down on something so involuntary, though, and when he was worn out from training or sleepy or in a post orgasmic haze, all it took was a little affection to get him started.  They fell asleep most nights to the soft thrum of Keith’s purring.   The vibrations were tangible through Keith’s throat, and Lance and Shiro smiled at each other when he wasn’t looking as they pet at him, barely able to contain themselves.

 

It was some time after the purring that other things started to change, and not just for Keith.

 

They returned to the castle one day after a hard fight with the Galra, all of them ready to drop where they stood.  He’d felt antsy the whole time, skin itchy and muscles tense.  Keith had spent half the firefight reaching through the lions bond to Shiro and Lance, desperate for  reassurance.  

 

When he’d gotten back their wordless approval,  _ you’re doing so well, you’ve got this, we’re here, don’t worry,  _ he couldn’t help the pleased sound he made.  He preened in his cockpit, taking out their enemies with renewed gusto,  _ they’re here for me, they’re watching, they’re proud. _

 

Keith fought harder, flew faster, and only when the last of the Galra ships were taken out did he let himself relax.

 

Keith was physically off, though.  His armor was sitting strangely on his body, too tight and too loose at once, so abruptly uncomfortable it was hard to keep on.  Red hummed in his mind, amused but placating,  _ finish the fight and then take what you need. _

 

He didn’t know what she meant, but it shot heat through him all the same.

 

Shiro reached out and squeezed Keith’s shoulder with a smile as they made their way back to the hangar, all the paladins barely on their feet.   _ ‘Nice flying out there, red,’  _ and Keith had grinned and started purring so loud that everyone in the room could hear it.

 

Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, along with Allura and a handful of Marmorans who were tagging along at the time.  Everyone went quiet all at once.  Lance smirked, affection written all over his face, the sound familiar after hearing it so often.  Hunk was wide eyed, and Pidge opened their mouth to make some smart assed remark, but one of the Marmorans beat them to it.

  
  


“Black paladin gets your motor running that easy, halfling?”  Vevlex, one of the Galrans who’d been around the longest, grabbed Keith’s shoulder just as Shiro had, shaking him a little, a teasing sort of smile on his face.

Keith scowled, more embarrassed than angry, blushing and ready to jerk away from his touch.

 

Only to find the Galran’s hand knocked away by Lance, who was shoving Vevlex backwards. The Galran was easily a foot and half taller than him, but Lance didn’t seem to care that he stood no chance without his bayard.  Vevlex thankfully seemed shocked rather than offended, frowning at Lance, head cocked to the side.

 

Then Lance started  _ growling  _ at him, a noise that should have been impossible for him to make with human vocal chords.  Low and guttural, the sound overlaying the words he spoke next.

 

“Don’t you fucking  _ touch him.”   _

 

Keith shivered, arousal inexplicably arching in him at Lance’s aggression even as his mind tried to disagree, to be logical.

 

Vevlex hadn’t done anything wrong, really, just poked some fun at someone he viewed as one of his own.  The Marmorans treated Keith precisely as they did each other, with deference, friendliness, and respect.  A brother, as they all were brothers.  Vevlex certainly hadn’t meant any offense, even if Keith had been embarrassed by randomly purring in front of a room full of people.  Keith turned towards Shiro, ready to let him handle Lance’s blatant overreaction as he usually did, but then Shiro was stepping in front of him.

 

Snarling, lip raised up to show his teeth, canines sharper than Keith remembered.

 

“Shiro?”  Keith said, a question in the tone.

 

Shiro glanced at Keith over his shoulder, then reached behind him, tugging Keith tight up against his back and holding him there protectively, one hand splayed out over his spine.

 

Keith melted into him without a thought, cheek flat on the back of Shiro’s armor, arms twining around his waist.  The strangest feeling of comfort came over him at the sound of Lance’s hostility and the solid wall of Shiro’s bulk in front of him, something he never felt unless he was in bed, clean and exhausted and ready to sleep.

 

_ I am safe, and loved, and wanted, and- _

 

The moment was broken when Vevlex laughed, realization dawning over his face, nose twitching like it itched.

 

“Oh, stars.”  He took several steps backwards, laughing even harder, hands on his knees as he bent forward.  “Ah, Keith, I think maybe we need to have a private conversation with you soon.  Galra biology, if you would.”  

 

That pulled a growl out of Shiro, the connotations of a private conversation about biology hitting him in all the wrong ways.  Lance took another step forward, and Keith watched his hand twitch towards his bayard before relaxing.  Vevlex just laughed again, the other Marmorans looking as though they were fighting back smirks, one of them covering his mouth with his palm, another shaking his head.  

 

“Not like that.  Keith, if you can shake your guard dogs, I’ll talk to you.  The sooner the better, probably.”

 

The angry hiss that slipped through Lance’s teeth, coupled with Shiro’s possessive hand pressing harder into Keith’s back, seemed to indicate that would not go over very well.  Keith wondered what Galra biology had to do with Shiro and Lance losing their fucking minds, but he’d never been very good at reading social cues.  Maybe Vevlex had been hitting on him, or at least overstepping some vague boundary, and Keith hadn’t noticed.  It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had been making romantic or sexual overtures towards him that went entirely over his head.

 

It had taken months for Keith to realize that Shiro and Lance were not only in a relationship with one another, but both actively flirting with him.

 

Vevlex didn’t wait for any kind of response, just gave him an amused nod and filed out of the room.  Only when they were gone did Lance and Shiro relax.   The Marmorans were going to clean up and head back to base to update everyone on the situation with the Galra.  Trade out a few battle weary fighters with some who were better rested, pick up some fresh gear, do some internal planning.  They would return in a week or so, and Voltron would lay low until then, keeping off the Galra’s radar unless it was an emergency of kind.

 

Well, half the universe was a constant state of emergency, but even paladins of Voltron needed sleep, and downtime.  

 

Once the Marmorans and Hunk and Pidge had filtered out of the hangar, Allura cornered Keith, Shiro, and Lance, hands on her hips.

 

“What is wrong with you?  You cannot pick ficks with the Marmorans for no reason!”  Allura snapped, and it would have been annoying if she hadn’t been totally justified in her anger.

 

Keith crossed his arms, shrugging.

 

“Hey don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything!  They’re the ones ready to fistfight friendly Galra.”  

 

Shiro and Lance shared a long look, blinking as though coming out of a haze.  They looked around like they were confused about something, Shiro reaching up slipping a finger into his mouth to prod absently at one of his canines.  Lance huffed before answering, voice faraway.

 

“I…  I dunno, that guy was all over Keith and I just-” 

 

“He barely touched him!  He patted him on the arm,”  Allura said, voice frustrated.  “This… thing you have, between the three of you, has only ever been good for Voltron, but don’t let it come between us and our allies.”  Allura’s gaze fell on Shiro, and he stood up straighter, eyes still flashing with something Keith couldn’t quite name.  “I expected better from you, at least.”

 

Allura turned and left, Lance calling after her.

 

“Hey, what the quiznak is that supposed to mean?  Just Shiro?  So you expect me to screw up but not him?  Pffffffft, I am the epitome of well behaved!  A prime example of-”  Keith smacked Lance in the stomach with the back of his hand, just hard enough to shut him up. “Oof!  What was that for?”  Keith glared at them both.

 

“Allura’s right, Vevlex didn’t do anything really, and even if he had, I can take care of myself.  I don’t need you stepping up to my defense against our own people.”  

 

It all came out harsher than he’d meant, with an edge he’d long ago worn down when talking to the two of them.  They both winced, and Keith winced with them, not appreciating how easily he’d fallen back into quick anger and rough words.

 

“You’re right. You’re right, we’re sorry.”  

 

Shiro seemed hesitant to touch him, reaching up but pausing, afraid Keith would shake off the affection.  Lance had fewer self preservation instincts, and was burying his hand in the fur around Keith’s ears with an apologetic look on his face.  Which for him was half a grin, wary and questioning.  His palm slid down until it cupped Keith’s jaw, fingertips brushing over his pulse point.

 

“I don’t know what happened, I just kinda… snapped.”

 

Keith was about to step away, out of Lance’s reach. 

 

Except he leaned into his hand instead, eyes closed, purring loud.  Lance’s hand was warm, and electric, and Keith shoved into it mindlessly.

 

He could barely remember what he was angry about in the first place, everything in him desperate for the contact.  All he wanted was the reassurance of Lance and Shiro’s presence, their hands on him, their voices in his ears.  What had upset him?  Something about the Galra?  

 

It didn’t seem to matter.  Everything was a bit foggy, in a soft, pleasant way.  Red’s soundless voice in his mind like an echo,  _ take what you need. _

 

He stepped into Lance’s space, nosing against his throat, arms folded up between them.  Keith was struck with the need to be held, and Lance took the hint, hugging Keith tight.  All of Lance was pressed against him, warm and solid, lanky but strong.

 

Then Keith  _ whimpered,  _ pitiful and high, and he should have been mortified, but he wasn’t.  Shiro’s voice broke over them, questioning and unsure, his hand tentative on Keith’s shoulder.

 

“Uhhh… Keith?  You okay?”  Keith’s face was still buried in Lance’s neck, and he turned slowly, rubbing his face on Lance’s skin as he did so.  He blinked stoned, glassy eyes at Shiro, breathing in slow and deep.

 

“‘M good.”  Better than good.  Lance smelled different, stronger, but not the scent of sweat or dirt or blood.  Just, more of himself.  Shiro too, now that Keith tried to pick out the individual strains of their scents.  His hand squeezed on Keith’s shoulder again.

 

“You look like you’re ready to fall asleep standing up.  You wanna hit the showers first?”

 

A shower would be nice, but not if he had to take one by himself.  Lance’s fingers scratched deeper into his hair, and Keith purred louder, words rumbling out between the sound.

 

“Both of you coming, too?”  Lance nodded against him, and Shiro smiled, brushing a lock of hair out of Keith’s eyes.

 

“Of course.”  

 

Some unfamiliar part of Keith rose up within him.  Not weak, but willful.  Shiro and Lance would do anything he asked, and that usually frightened him.  Made him careful, made him wary, made him hesitate.  

 

Right then it made him feel strung tight with heat and power.  

 

He thought of Shiro and Lance on their knees, ready to obey his every whim, and started purring again.  Keith reached both arms out to Shiro and tilted his head to the side, throat bared, eyes hooded.

 

“Carry me.”

 

Keith could fight his way through Galra ships like they were nothing.  He double wielded his swords like he’d been born with them in his hands.  He was faster than anyone else on the team, in or out of his lion, more agile.

 

More lethal.  

 

Keith didn’t need Shiro or Lance to protect him, to fight for him, to coddle him, and they knew that.

 

It made it all the more satisfying when Shiro scooped Keith up in his arms like he weighed nothing at all, bridal style, and carried him down the hall.  It was pointless.  Unnecessary.  He could walk himself.

 

Shiro did it just because Keith asked him to, and he purred impossibly louder from where he was tucked against his chest.  They undressed him in the showers without prompting, something predatory in the motions, eyes keen like they were expecting an attack or an intruder.  They washed him, Shiro’s hands working shampoo into his hair, Lance scrubbing the sweat and grease off him.  They followed the subtle commands Keith gave them with his body language, the tilt of his limbs, how he cocked his head.  Lance knelt down to clean Keith’s feet, to run the soapy cloth in his hands between his clawed toes, to prod at the little soft pads underneath them.

 

Lance had been so excited the first time he saw, gasping in surprise,  _ ‘Keith you have little kitty toe beans!’ _

 

He’d caught some claws in his arms for that, and managed to keep his joy at Keith’s vague feline qualities mostly confined to those times after they had sex when Keith was too weary and blissed out to protest.

 

Lance looked up warily from the shower floor, expecting Keith to react badly like he usually did when he was reminded of his inhuman biology.  

 

Instead Keith buried his hand in Lance’s hair and pulled, guiding his head up until his face was nudging at Keith’s half hard arousal.  He reached back to find the metal of Shiro’s palm, easing  it between his cheeks, until warm fingers were slipping against him, circling, teasing.

 

Keith fucked himself forward into Lance’s mouth, holding him in place with a fistful of wet hair.  After a few moments he lifted one of his legs, resting his calf over Lance’s shoulder, arching his hips backwards to encourage Shiro.  Shiro, who was mouthing sharply across Keith’s throat, huffing warm breaths over the skin there, his other hand running across every inch of Keith that he could reach.

 

“K-Keith, are you s-”  His words cut off when Keith reached down, forcing one of Shiro’s fingers into himself, alongside one of his own.

 

Keith came into Lance’s mouth without warning a few minutes later, Shiro’s whispered praises in his ear, Lance’s throat working to swallow him down.  He rinsed himself clean, he climbed back into Shiro’s arms without prompting, unconcerned about Lance and Shiro’s obvious arousal.  When he realized he’d pretty much fucked Lance’s face and ridden Shiro’s fingers to orgasm without asking or reciprocating, Keith felt guilty for the briefest of moments, but then a voice buried in the recesses of his mind calmed him.

 

_ They should save their energy.  _

 

Which made perfect sense, even if it shouldn’t have, and he was already drifting in and out of sleep when Shiro tucked him in bed between them.

 

….

 

The next day Keith woke up later than usual, which was strange, because his body’s internal clock rarely let him sleep past six.  Or what Pidge had decided was six in the absence of a sun rising and falling to tell them so.  When he blinked open his eyes and stretched, the clock on his wall telling him it was nearing ten, he found Shiro and Lance both awake, staring.  They looked different.  Better, somehow.

 

Their eyes seemed vividly bright, despite being the same color they’d always been.  When Lance smiled at him, already scratching behind his ears, his teeth seemed… longer.  Sharper.

 

Keith wanted Lance to bite him.  He arched his neck, exposing his pulse point and looking at Lance from underneath his lashes.  But Lance didn’t seem to understand, and then Keith shook away the haze of warmth and sleep and frowned at himself.

 

Why would Lance bite him just because he showed him his throat?  

 

Something was wrong with him.  He was behaving oddly, even for him.  He’d basically demanded to be gotten off in the shower, and then proceeded to ignore Shiro and Lance’s needs.  

 

Keith never really initiated sex.  Not that he didn’t enjoy it, or desire it, but he was more awkward about starting things between them.  He was bad at reading social cues, and couldn’t always tell when the mood was right for someone other than himself.  Lance and Shiro picked up the slack, as always, knew how to coax Keith out of his shell until he was noisy and shameless.  Even if he didn’t instigate, though, he was always generous.  The idea that he’d left his boyfriends wanting troubled him.

 

And that wasn’t the only troubling thing.

 

His eyes flitted to Shiro, who was propped up on his elbow and staring at Keith like he’d hung the stars in the sky, stroking a hand mindlessly up and down his chest and abdomen.

 

“You let me sleep too late.”  Shiro wasn’t the only one to blame, but Lance would always take a few hours of extra sleep when the opportunity presented itself.  Shiro was more like Keith, more likely to wake up early no matter what to train, or help Hunk work on the lions.  But Shiro only shrugged one shoulder, unbothered.

 

“Your body needed rest.  I didn’t want to wake you up.”

 

Keith stretched again, feeling the slide of smooth sheets on his skin, sinking deeper into the soft mattress.  He’d been a creature of instinct long before he ever got launched into space, and even if they sometimes got him into trouble, they’d never really led him wrong.

 

Right then his instincts were telling him to roll around in bed.  To take all the extra blankets in the closet, and pile them up around himself, arrange them perfectly.  To let Lance undress him, until they were skin on skin.

 

To let Shiro shove him facedown into the pillows and fuck him stupid all day long.

 

Keith clenched his thighs together, heat curling low in his belly, cock twitching at the thought.  He shook his head, brows furrowing at the raw need rolling through him.  

 

‘Your body needed rest.’

 

Right then his body needed Shiro and Lance.  Needed them to spread his legs, and sink into him, again and again until he was boneless and shaking and full of them.

 

Needed it so fiercely it frightened him, and Keith stumbled to his feet, glowering at nothing in particular.

 

“Let’s go train before lunch.”

 

……….

 

Training had been a terrible idea.

 

Mostly because Keith couldn’t seem to make himself actually train.

 

Keith tended to win against Lance in hand to hand, unless he was already tired or lost in his head.  He kept pace with Shiro, until either his agility or Shiro’s bulk won the match.  He had stamina, and the longer their fights dragged on, the more likely Keith was to emerge victorious.

 

Except Keith kept letting them win, and couldn’t seem to stop doing so.  He put up the most perfunctory struggle imaginable, and then let Shiro and Lance put him on his back.  Once, twice, three times.  The second time he squared off against Lance, Keith didn’t even fight back.  Just let Lance pin him down and arched up into him, thighs falling wide.  Lance didn’t seem puzzled by this, or bothered in any way.  

 

He nosed hard into Keith’s throat, biting down over his pulse point, hand slipping into Keith’s pants to take his cock in hand.  Lance worked him, rough and impatient, until Keith was rocking up into his hand.  Whining, and shaking, and it wasn’t long before he came into Lance’s palm with a groan.

 

Shiro snatched Lance’s messy hand by the wrist and licked it clean, eyes flashing oddly.

 

Lit up Galran gold, for the barest of moments.

 

Then training was over, because Shiro picked Keith up and threw him over his shoulder, and stomped back towards their room.

 

….

 

A blur of motion, a tangle of limbs, a haze of clothes being tugged off, and Keith was on his back in their bed, all three of them breathing hard, only Shiro managing to break through the fuzzy warmth surrounding them to state the obvious.

 

“Keith,” he said, mouthing his way down Keith’s throat, sucking briefly at his pulse point.  “Keith there’s…  there’s something wrong.  With you.  With us.”

 

Lance growled in answer.  A clear argument, but one he was unwilling to clarify further.  Probably because he’d have to stop sucking Keith off to do so, and Keith had zero complaints about his lack of eloquence right then.  

 

It was when he found himself agreeing with Lance instead of Shiro that he realized something was probably, in fact, wrong.  

 

But it didn’t feel wrong, the wet heat of Lance’s mouth working him, the sharp sting of Shiro’s teeth in his skin.  He sank one hand in Lance’s hair, and wrapped his other arm around Shiro’s neck, clinging.

 

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s- I’m fine, don’t stop.”

 

Shiro’s fingers slid down and hooked under his knee, tugging until his thighs were splayed wide, and then pressed up between his cheeks.  Two fingers eased into him, without resistance, without stretching or teasing or coaxing.  Just sank into Keith like it was the most natural thing in the world, like his body was made for it.  Slick, even if he hadn’t noticed Shiro using any lubricant.  

 

Keith groaned, arching back to impale himself further on Shiro’s touch, hips writhing, eyes trying to roll back in his head.  Shiro pulled his thighs a little further apart, craning his neck to watch where his fingers vanished inside of Keith.  Keith always loved being fingered, being fucked, but it was even better right then.  More sensitive, Shiro’s fingers brushing against his prostate, and then deeper, against something else inside of him that made his vision nearly white out with bliss.  

 

Something he’d never felt before, but that seemed irrelevant, Shiro nudging at it a few times until Keith came hard into Lance’s mouth.  Keith panted, cock still hard against his stomach, blinking through the lingering rush of his orgasm.  He heard Shiro and Lance talking, blinking slow at them, trying to pay attention.  Shiro brought his fingers up to his lips and slid them inside, a tremble running through him before he dropped his hand down and pressed back into Keith.

 

“Lance, look at this.”

 

Shiro moved his fingers within Keith, scissoring them open, and Keith shuddered hard.  Lance and Shiro were both kneeling between his legs then, Keith’s knees pressed up against his chest as they stared at him. 

 

“Fuck.  He just… opens up.”  Lance reached down and ran the tips of his fingers over Keith’s damp thighs, bringing them up to his mouth.  They were shining with clear fluid, and Keith could smell the sugary sweetness of it, even from where he lay.  Lance lapped it off his fingers, eyes falling closed as he groaned.  “That’s not lube.”  

 

“Nnnn.  Tastes sweet.  And here, feel this.”

 

Shiro pulled one of his fingers out, until there were only two inside of Keith, allowing one of Lance’s to slide in alongside them.  Keith writhed in place under their gazes, more offended that they weren’t fucking him  _ right now immediately _ than the fact that they seemed to be having an objective conversation about his ass.  Shiro guided Lance’s index finger until it was brushing up against the same thing Shiro had touched before, whatever it was.  Keith shook, precome pulsing from his cock, an impatient growl coming out of his throat unbidden.

 

“There’s another opening, in here.”  Lance said as he pressed into it, long fingers reaching further than Shiro’s own, and Keith keened in response.  Lance grinned, fucking into Keith as deep as he could, until his knuckles were shoving up against him.  “I think he likes it, Shiro.”

 

Lance was too enthralled by toying with Keith’s newfound Galran anatomy to notice his vague discomfort, torn between being disgusted with himself and his rapidly increasing desperation.

 

He’d come twice, and his cock was still rock hard, showing no signs of flagging.  Unnaturally hard, the tip flushed dark violet and oversensitive.  There was sweet, clear fluid dripping from him.  Keith could feel it, wet on the inside of his thighs, slipping down until the sheets were soaked beneath him.  He had some sort of… secondary opening inside him, one that Lance was teasing at mercilessly.  Every brush of his fingers had Keith quaking, body twisting in place, mouth open to bed but unable to form words.

 

The changes he’d undergone already were bad enough, now his body was betraying him again, making into more of a freak.  Shiro hadn’t said another word.  He’d withdrawn his fingers to give Lance room, and was just staring, silent, face full of some emotion Keith couldn’t put a name to.  It was impossible to glare with Lance breaking him into pieces, making all his nerve endings sing, but when he managed to get his mouth to work the irritation was clear in his tone.

 

“Fuck me or don’t, but stop fucking  _ teasing.   _ If I’m… too different now, if you don’t want to, then I’ll do it my goddamned self.”  

 

The words were for both of them, but he was looking at Shiro when he spoke them.  On a rational level, buried down below a few rather loud layers of self hatred, he knew that Shiro wouldn’t reject him like that.  Wouldn’t suddenly be repulsed by any part of Keith, not now, not ever.  Lance stopped moving his fingers, brows furrowing as he looked up at Keith.  Shiro was staring, too, but Keith couldn’t meet his eyes again, self consciousness making him a coward.

 

When would it be over?  When would there be nothing new to learn about himself?  His past, and now his body, betraying him in ways he’d never expected.

 

Keith couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt at home in his own skin.  As though it belonged to him, instead of feeling like it was someone else’s.

 

Back on earth, probably, when he had nothing to call his own but the desert, and a knife, and the night sky.

 

Keith reached down and slapped Lance’s hand away, despite how little he actually wanted to do such a thing, when suddenly he was being kissed hard.  Shiro shoved him back into the pillows, mouth rough and messy, biting at Keith’s lips and growling.  When he broke away his eyes were gold again, shining like a Galra’s, and Shiro looked  _ hungry. _

 

Sharp teeth, and bright eyes, something riling in his scent in a way that was both entirely foreign and somehow comforting.

 

“Sh… Shiro, you’re-  your eyes, they-”

 

Keith cut off abruptly when Shiro shoved two fingers into him, pressing in slow and pulling out again, stealing every word Keith knew from his mouth.  Then his lips were next to Keith’s ear, pouring words into it, breath hot on his skin.

 

“You think because you taste like sugar and need cock like you need air, that it’s gonna scare us away?”

 

Shiro didn’t  _ talk like that _ , rough and filthy and tearing Keith apart with just his voice.

 

Keith tried to answer, but it came out more like a whimper.  He swallowed, unsure of what he was going to say if he ever managed to speak.

 

_ Please please please  _ came to mind, and Keith looked over to Lance, who was unusually quiet, especially considering the things Shiro was saying.

 

Only to find him staring back, gold eyed and predatory, licking his lips with a slow smile.  Then, as if Keith glancing at him was some kind of invitation he’d been waiting on, Lance surged forward to nose at Keith’s throat.  He breathed in deep, nipping at Keith’s skin, tugging on Keith’s nipples one after the other.  

 

Shiro was working him slow, fingers delving in deep and then pulling back, growling soft against his shoulder.  Lance’s teeth were sharp, his touch constant, twisting and pulling at Keith’s nipples until they were dark violet and swollen.  Keith groped at whatever bits of skin he reach, claws raking down Shiro’s bicep, and sinking into Lance’s hair.

 

They held Keith tight, like they never wanted to let go.

 

And it didn’t matter, suddenly.  His purple skin, and his golden eye, and his soft, furred ears.  His sharp claws, his long canines.  The purr emanating from his throat, the wet slick dripping down his thighs, the vicious need he felt swallowing him whole.

 

Keith was human, and he was Galra.  He was the same as he’d always been, even if he hadn’t really known himself before.  No, not the same.  Keith was better, now.  

 

Home was more than the creeping desert sands.  Family was more than the blade on his hip.  The future was more than the infinite blanket of stars above him.

 

It was Lance, and Shiro, always there, tucked in close. 

 

Following one another to the ends of the universe, no matter what. 

 

His mouth did work, then, and he wasn’t ashamed to beg.

 

Wasn’t ashamed of anything.

 

“Please, Shiro.  Lance, I need, I-”

 

Shiro flipped Keith over onto hands and knees in one effortless, fluid movement.  Keith went without hesitation, elbows sliding out from under him until his face was in the sheets, knees spreading wider.  The metal of Shiro’s right hand was splayed out between his shoulder blades, his other hand on his cock, the tip pressing into Keith, breaching him slowly, slowly.  Keith rocked back onto Shiro, listening to him groan, feeling the pressure increase on his shoulders until he could do nothing but lie there, pinned, helpless.

 

Then Shiro started moving, thrusting deep, and Keith sobbed out a broken sound.

 

The relief of finally being held down and fucked hard was a visceral thing, and Keith felt tears gathering in his eyes, one sliding down his cheek.  He mewled out little whines, hands fisting in the sheets by his face, hips arching up into Shiro.

 

Something soft brushed his face, and Keith turned towards it with a whimper.  Towards Lance, who was rutting into Keith’s side, gold eyes bright.  His long fingers threaded into Keith’s hair, turning his head further until Lance could better get at his mouth.  Their kiss was rough, Keith’s whole body jolting under Shiro’s assault, Lance’s teeth biting sharp into his lips.  

 

Shiro drove into him again and again, tension and heat building up in Keith, a wave that felt like it would never crest.  Swelling, and rising, higher and higher, and Keith gritted his teeth and writhed against the bed.  He wasn’t really kissing Lance, just panting hard against his mouth, licking at them dizzily.

 

Lance gave up clinging to Keith’s lips after a while, mouthing his way down to Keith’s shoulder, kissing just over his pulse point before growling and biting down hard.  Lance didn’t let up as he normally did, teeth sinking down into the bite, an animal with a prize it didn’t want to relinquish.  Every inch of Keith’s body sang with the rightness of it, shivering and strung tight.  

 

A sense of belonging settled in his blood, of being possessed, and owned.

 

Of being cared for, and looked after, and loved.

 

He reached blindly up to paw at the other side of his throat, a bone deep need rolling through him until he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Shiro, Sh- Shiro, Shiro-”  Keith’s fingers scrabbled at his own neck, jaw shivering, hips canting higher in the air.  “Shiro, please, I-I-”

 

Shiro lay down on top of him, still grinding ceaselessly into Keith, and bit into his throat.  Lance’s teeth on his left, Shiro’s on his right, holding Keith in place between them.  Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing to do but feel them.

 

Keith was gone, coming hard onto the sheets underneath him, dragging Shiro with him into climax.  His own orgasm didn’t give him any real relief.

 

Instead it was Shiro, his seed pulsing hot inside of Keith, that finally took the edge off his knife-sharp need.  Shiro came, and kept coming, hips stuttering into Keith, until he was buried deep, pressing Keith hard into the bed.  Keith reached back to hold him in place, needed him right there, filling him up, making him whole.

 

Then there was an odd sensation, Shiro swelling strangely within him, until Keith was stretched so tight around his cock it was almost, not quite, painful.

 

It felt perfect.   _ This is how it’s supposed to be,  _ and Keith relaxed into the feeling, whimpering softly when Shiro and Lance both finally released his throat.  Lance licked up the blood that welled in the bites, gently, kissing them with a strange affection.  Shiro pulled back a little, and Keith felt the tug of it all the way in his stomach.  He relished the feeling, his body refusing to let Shiro go, Shiro’s refusing to withdraw.  Shiro made a noise in the back of his throat, something gruff and pleased and satisfied.

 

Later on, Keith would question it, would worry about the how and the why of his body’s new quirks.  Worry about whatever was happening to Lance, and Shiro.  Why they were in a haze of need with him, about their eyes and teeth and everything else.

 

Right then, he didn’t have questions.  Lance was quiet, stroking his fingers through Keith’s hair, kissing across his face, listening to him purr.  None of his usual impatience, no clamoring for his turn, even if Keith could feel him, hard and wet against his side.  His neck was sore, blood caking over the bites there, bruises probably already forming.  He’d torn the sheets with his claws, but Keith didn’t really care.

 

Everything just felt right.

 

About fifteen minutes later the swelling at the base of Shiro’s cock went down, and he eased carefully out of Keith.  As soon as he did so, lust arced through Keith anew, and he was lifting up his hips with a hiss before Shiro even finished climbing off him.

 

Lance was at his ear then, shushing him, his cock slipping through Shiro’s come and Keith’s slick to press inside.  Except Lance was always a fucking tease, would draw things out, make Keith beg for what he needed.  Maybe not right then, with his gold eyes, and sharp teeth, and raw need.  Maybe he’d give Keith everything obediently, rough, just like Keith wanted him to.  Keith couldn’t be sure, though.

 

So he spun around, shoving Lance down into the mattress and mounting him instead.  Shiro moved in close behind him, letting Keith lean back against him as he started to ride, flushed and sweating and on fire.

 

Lance just laid there and took it, hands clinging to Keith’s hips, head thrown back against the bed.

 

It was a long, long night, and Keith knew when he woke up the next day, he would be sore and miserable.  Could already feel it, the agony threatening in his muscles, looming on the horizon.  

 

_ They’ll take care of you,  _ something in Keith’s mind whispered, confident, unfazed.

 

_ It’s what they do. _

 

It was what they did.  Caring for Keith, even when he fought it tooth and nail, even when he railed against it and made it almost impossible.

 

The hours stretched on towards sunless daybreak, and Keith let himself get lost in them, and had no regrets.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
